by Julia Sykes
Battle for Love
Julia Sykes
Copyright © 2018 by Julia Sykes
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
1. Ashlyn
2. Joseph
3. Joseph
4. Ashlyn
5. Ashlyn
6. Ashlyn
7. Joseph
8. Marco
My Sweet Captive Excerpt
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Chapter One
Ashlyn
My stomach did a funny little flip when his eyes met mine. Although the bar was crowded with intoxicated coeds, the cacophony of feminine laughter and hip-hop music faded away. The phenomenon was familiar, and I found it addictive. I found these moments with him addictive. His cocky, crooked smile made my heart race and my blood heat.
I leaned on the bar that separated me from Joseph, my body swaying toward his without a thought. We’d only ever exchanged the briefest physical contact when he pressed free drinks into my hand, his long fingers brushing against mine.
I was crushing hard on the breathtaking bartender, but so were most of the other women who frequented the dive bar where fake IDs were the norm and it was easy to get served underage. While I wasn’t usually one to bat my lashes and flirt my way into free drinks, the connection I felt to Joseph was electric. I wasn’t intentionally acting coy; I simply couldn’t resist the chemistry between us.
And while he always lingered when he served me drinks with that heart-stopping smile and a wink, I couldn’t be at all certain that my attraction wasn’t one-sided. He likely flirted with most of the girls in the bar. After all, he was trying to get tips.
“Same as usual, Ashlyn?” he asked, his deep, velvety voice caressing my name.
“Um, yes, please,” I breathed. I was far from composed, but I couldn’t help getting hot and flustered when he captured me in his intense, aquamarine gaze. With his thick, dark eyelashes and sensual mouth, his features might have seemed almost feminine. But the sharp line of his stubble-covered jaw and defined cheekbones were decidedly masculine. His black hair curled slightly around his chiseled face. I craved to run my fingers through it, to see if it was as thick and soft as it appeared.
His eyes finally dropped from mine as he filled a small plastic cup with ice, poured a generous measure of Absolut Orange, and topped it with cranberry juice. I sucked in a breath when he released me from his gaze, and my own hungry stare drifted lower as I admired the way his muscles bulged and flexed beneath his black t-shirt as he moved.
My tongue darted out to wet my lips. I could feel his eyes burning into me once again, and I realized he’d noticed my wanton reaction to him. My cheeks flamed, and I stared at the highly polished bar top.
He set the drink in front of me, but he didn’t draw away. His hand lingered on the cup, waiting for me to take it from him. I peeked up at him, wondering for the hundredth time if there was more to his flirtatious behavior than a desire for a tip.
My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for the drink, my body anticipating the physical contact. When my hand closed around the chilled cup, he slid his fingers between mine. The light glide of his calloused skin against mine made my flesh pebble, and I suppressed a shiver.
“Hey, are you done?” an annoyed, feminine voice sounded from behind me.
I jolted away from Joseph, the moment shattered. My embarrassment returned, and I tossed a few dollar bills into the tip jar before darting away, nearly spilling my beverage as I hastened to put distance between us.
I weaved through the crowd, returning to Jayme where she leaned on a high table in the back corner. My best friend was smirking at me, and I could barely meet her sparkling green eyes. She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and addressed me drily.
“So, where’s my drink?”
Crap.
I’d been so entranced by Joseph that I’d forgotten to get a vodka-cranberry for my friend, too.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I, um, got distracted.”
“Of course you did. Hottie McHotstuff was practically eye fucking you for five minutes. When are you going to hit that, girl?”
I shook my head. Jayme might be completely confident when it came to ensnaring men—different guys rotated in and out of our apartment on a regular basis—but I was more reserved. Well, to be honest, I was shy. And wary, after being cheated on by my boyfriend last year. I was what Jayme termed a serial monogamist. I didn’t trust easily, so when I finally did start to open up to someone, I committed fully.
Jimmy cheating on me had set me back even further when it came to trust issues.
“You’re crazy for not tapping that,” Jayme declared. “You know Joseph would come home with you if you invited him. Let’s stay until close, and then you can make your move.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know that won’t happen. I wish you wouldn’t tease me about it.”
She held up her hands in a show of contrition. “I’m not teasing. I’m trying to get you some well-deserved action with the hottest guy in town.”
I blew out a sigh. I couldn’t put myself on the line like that, especially when I feared rejection. Jayme might be sure that my invitation would be accepted, but I wasn’t so certain. I still wasn’t convinced that Joseph was truly interested in me.
She made a little waving motion, shifting the subject. “Okay, let’s start with an easier mark, then. You know Stu is into you. You kissed at his frat party two weeks ago.”
My pulse stuttered, but not in the same way Joseph affected me. This was a nervous reaction. The last time I’d been with Stu, he’d provided me with a steady supply of grain alcohol-spiked jungle juice. I’d known what I was drinking, but I’d overindulged to counteract my social anxiety. By the end of the night, I’d been rolling my hips on the dance floor, and Stu had moved in. I’d kissed him in drunken abandon in the middle of the party.
It wasn’t like me to behave that way, and I was deeply embarrassed by the memory.
“I’m not proud of that,” I said truthfully.
“So you don’t like him?”
I shrugged. Stu wasn’t a bad guy, but he didn’t make my heart race and my belly clench.
Jayme gave me a sly smile. “Well, you’d better make up your mind fast, because he’s on his way over here.” She pushed away from the table. “I’m going to get a drink. I’ll be back soon. Maybe. Probably not. Get it, girl.”
“Jayme,” I said sharply. She simply grinned and slipped away.
“Hey, Ashlyn. You need a drink?” I recognized Stu’s voice behind me.
I closed my eyes for a moment and took a breath before turning to face him. I managed a polite smile and raised my full cup. “I’m good,” I assured him. “But thanks.”
“Next one’s on me.” He flashed a wide, boyish grin. With his dark blond hair and chocolate eyes, Stu was cute in a clean-cut, frat boy way. He wore a slightly formal blue button-up shirt that clashed with his backward baseball cap.
Yep, definitely a frat boy. That wasn’t my usual type, but he was undeniably charming.
Too charming. I’d heard rumors that he was a bit of a man whore. And while I didn’t particularly have a problem with his life choices, I wasn’t interested in becoming another notch on his bedpost.
“So, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, still grinning that cocky grin.
“Yeah?” I prompted, unease stirring in my gut. If he was about to ask me back to his place, I was going to have to deal with the awkw
ardness of turning him down.
“Our fraternity formal is next month. I want you to be my date.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised. He wasn’t exactly asking. More like he was making an announcement. I wasn’t impressed.
His brows rose. “Oh? Is that a yes?”
Definitely cocky. But there was a touch of uncertainty in his eyes that softened my irritation. He didn’t want to be rejected by me any more than I wanted to be rejected by Joseph. At least Stu had the guts to ask me out, unlike me when it came to making a move on Joseph.
I smiled up at him. “Sure. I’ll be your date.” I might not be interested in him romantically, but getting dressed up in a pretty gown and dancing with friends would be fun.
He returned my smile with a triumphant grin. “Sweet. I’ll drink to that.” He raised his beer and touched it to my cup.
Obliging him, I tipped my own drink back in response. He kept going, draining his beer in several long gulps. I lowered mine after a few sips. I didn’t want to get drunk and make poor life choices again.
Stu apparently had other expectations. He boldly grabbed my cup and lifted it up to my lips.
“You gotta chug.”
I turned my face away, frowning. “No, thanks.”
“Come on, Ashlyn. Don’t be like that. Live a little.”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head, not caring for the peer pressure. I’d allowed him to get me drunk at the frat party, but I was more clearheaded this time. I didn’t want to repeat the experience, and I definitely didn’t want to repeat the wicked hangover.
“Okay, then.” He set my drink down on the table. He was still smiling, and I breathed a small huff of relief. I didn’t want to piss him off.
I suddenly became aware that he’d imposed himself in my personal space. I took a step back and bumped into the barstool behind me. I stumbled, and he caught my upper arms to prevent me from falling.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, embarrassed. I tried to shift away again, but he didn’t let me go.
“I think you owe me a kiss,” he announced, leaning in so his hot breath fanned over my face. He smelled like beer and cigarettes. My stomach twisted.
“I don’t think so,” I countered, trying to sound cold. Instead, the refusal came out a little breathlessly. I was distinctly uncomfortable with his nearness and his persistent grip on my arms.
Maybe Stu wasn’t as nice as I’d thought.
“Don’t be a cocktease. You know you want it.”
“I don’t.” I tried to twist out of his hold, but he didn’t release me. Instead, he leaned closer.
“Take your hands off her.” The menace in the low, masculine growl made me shudder.
I looked past Stu with wide eyes, searching for my savior. Joseph’s glacial blue gaze burned into the boy who’d trapped me. My mouth went dry, but his fury wasn’t directed at me.
Stu finally let me go so he could face off against Joseph. I quickly put distance between us, my back hitting the wall after a few steps. Stu placed his body in front of mine, blocking me off in a clearly territorial demonstration.
“Get away from her.” Joseph’s voice was sharp, icy. He had several inches of height on Stu, even though the frat boy was a little over six feet tall. Joseph’s impressive muscles rippled with barely restrained violence.
Stu was either drunk enough or stupid enough that he didn’t back down.
“Fuck off,” he sneered.
Joseph moved with lightning speed, and his fists curled in the front of Stu’s shirt. He jerked Stu away from me and slammed him back against the wall several feet away from me.
“Leave,” he ordered coldly. “You’re banned. If I ever see you in here again—and if I ever see you anywhere near Ashlyn—you’ll answer to me.”
He held Stu in his frozen stare a few seconds longer, impressing his will on the smaller man. When he finally released him, Stu shoved at him in a show of petulance. Joseph barely swayed back an inch, standing his ground. His eyes narrowed on Stu, and the frat boy shot one last glare in my direction before sulking off toward the exit.
“You okay?”
I jolted when Joseph addressed me, his tone low and soothing, in sharp contrast to the menace that had imbued his voice when he threatened Stu.
“Um, yeah.” I realized I was trembling. I tried to still my shaking fingers. I wasn’t hurt, but the encounter had been unnerving.
“I’m going to take you home.” It wasn’t a question, but I found myself nodding in response. I didn’t want to leave without an escort in case Stu decided to wait for me outside.
I realized the bar had gone quiet around us as all the focus shifted toward the altercation between Stu and Joseph. Dozens of eyes pricked at my skin like needles, and I was suddenly anxious to get back to the safe solitude of my apartment.
“Come on. I’ve got you.” Joseph reached out his hand, giving me the option to initiate physical contact. After Stu had inserted himself into my personal space, I appreciated that Joseph allowed me to choose whether or not I wanted him to touch me.
I wasn’t at all afraid of him. A sense of safety rolled over me when I placed my hand in his. His long fingers closed around mine in a gentle grip. I breathed out a relieved sigh and gratefully followed him toward the exit. The crowd parted, avoiding Joseph’s hulking form. He walked ahead of me, his big body shielding mine. I squeezed his hand tighter, and his thumb rubbed across my palm in a reassuring caress.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jayme just before we stepped outside. She gave me a thumbs-up. I suspected she wouldn’t be coming back to the apartment for a while, so I could have some alone time with Joseph.
Now that he was actually going to take me home after weeks of sexual tension building between us, it seemed surreal. I’d second-guessed his interest in me so many times, but in that moment, there was no doubt in my mind. Joseph wanted me.
Chapter Two
Joseph
I knew I was making a mistake, but I didn’t care. For weeks, I’d held myself back. Ashlyn was a barely legal, innocent angel with no ties to my dark world. It was selfish and reckless for me to allow myself to get close to her, but there was no going back now.
When that asshole frat boy put his hands on her, I hadn’t been able to restrain my more violent urges. And by the time she placed her hand in mine, trusting me to protect her and take her home, her fate was sealed.
I’d ached to claim the gorgeous, curvy brunette from the first moment her lovely blue eyes had met mine across the bar. I’d indulged in a few lingering touches and heated looks, but otherwise, I’d spared her from the taint of my gritty world; a world someone like Ashlyn—with her pretty, charmed life—would never understand.
I might have resolved to put that world in my past, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t catch up to me at any time. I was on the run, most likely being hunted by my so-called family.
They were the least of my worries. If my family’s enemies caught up to me, anyone close to me would be in danger.
I hadn’t wanted that for Ashlyn. Over the long weeks, I’d placed her on a pedestal in my mind: the perfect, sweet angel with the perfect, sweet life.
I envied her and craved her at the same time. If I could touch her, taste her, I might be able to pretend that kind of life could be mine, just for a moment.
Even if I didn’t deserve it.
I definitely didn’t deserve her.
“Do you want to get an Uber?” she asked when we stepped out into the crisp autumn air.
I finally turned back to look at her, and all thoughts of my unworthiness left my mind. I didn’t give a fuck about the complications that might keep her from me. For tonight, she was mine. I’d be a gentleman and take her home, but I’d steal a goodnight kiss, at the very least. If she invited me in after that, I wouldn’t hold anything back. I wouldn’t be able to, not after weeks of fantasizing about her soft body pinned beneath mine.
“I’ll drive,” I said, realizing I’d waited a second
too long to answer. Her flushed cheeks and sparkling sapphire eyes were very distracting. I’d only ever seen her in the dim lighting of the bar, but now her alabaster skin was illuminated by the streetlights. She practically shined, every bit the angel I’d envisioned.
“Okay,” she agreed, seemingly unconcerned at getting in the car with a near-stranger. I should have pointed out that her decision-making could have put her at risk with another man, but I didn’t want to spook her. So I said nothing, swallowing the urge to correct her.
There were other, darker ways I’d like to reprimand her. More times than I could count, I’d envisioned the way her shapely ass would wiggle beneath my hand as I spanked her.
But she was far too pure and perfect to be subjected to such perversions. For her, I could hold back that particularly hungry part of myself. I’d spare her from my animal urges.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to touch her.
I allowed her to catch up a step, and when she was within reach, I placed my hand at the small of her back in a proprietary gesture. She didn’t protest. Instead, I felt the light shiver that raced through her body.
“Are you cold?” I asked.
“Y-yes,” she stuttered slightly, and I knew she wasn’t simply chilled from the cool night air. “Um, I’m still not used to this weather. I’m a Georgia girl.”
“What year are you?”
Please don’t say freshman. If she were eighteen or under, I couldn’t justify fucking her. Not if she was more than five years younger than me.
“Sophomore,” she replied. “This is my second year at Harvard, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the cold.”
I took the invitation to wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her closer to my body heat. She didn’t shift away. Instead, she leaned into me.
